


Pilgrims and Cowboys and Dry Ass Turkey

by trash4ficsaboutlurv



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash4ficsaboutlurv/pseuds/trash4ficsaboutlurv
Summary: Thanksgiving plans and a surprise





	

"Confession," Sam said the moment Steve walked into their apartment. 

Steve slung his gym bag on the floor and toed out of his sneakers. "What's up?" 

Sam leaned his head back on the sofa to accept Steve's hello kiss, before he sighed and said dramatically,  "I don't like Thanksgiving. Don't care for it at all." He looked at Steve for his reaction – a quizzical half-smile. "There. I've said it." 

Steve pushed his hands through his sweat-dampened hair. "What precisely do you hate? Is it the delicious food? Seeing your family? The four and a half day weekend?" 

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I'd like to say something high minded about how indigenous peoples have been treated in this country, which – you know, is a complaint I've had for a while." 

"White people are terrible," Steve said, settling down beside Sam on the couch.  

"You're white people, babe. And you're not exempt just because you were asleep for 70 years of white people shenanigans." 

Steve put his hand over Sam's. "I know you're right, but--" 

"No buts," Sam said. "Just take the L for your people." 

Steve dropped his head on Sam's shoulder, nuzzling against Sam's neck. "Okay," he murmured. "The L is in the record books. Are you finished confessing?" 

Sam shook his head, stroking his fingers through Steve's hair, not seeming to mind the sweat. "No," he said. "It being a garbage white-people-genocide holy day is obviously bad enough. But it's also just the most let-downy kind of holiday. It's the timing really, squashed in between the sexiness of Halloween and the party good time cheer of Christmas and New Year's. (And Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, if you're cool). Thanksgiving is drab. Pilgrims and dry ass turkey and the Cowboys contractually obligated to play a godawful football game until the end of time. America's team, my ass!" 

Steve stroked Sam's knuckles. "You got a lotta feelings on the subject," he observed neutrally. He let his hand wander to Sam's lap.  

"I do, and I've kept them pent up for too long. Rhodey and Monica have been going on about sweet potato pie and ham since the Halloween decorations came down." 

"I've heard them," Steve said. He placed Sam's hand on his lap to make his point.  

Sam laughed. "How are you always horny?"  

"You're just so sexy when you're ranting," Steve explained, angling so he could kiss Sam's jaw.  

"Yesterday, it was when I cook. And the day before that it was when I fold laundry." Sam's eyes had fluttered closed.  

"Can I help that my boyfriend is super sexy doing super mundane things?" Steve asked. He pulled at the zipper of Sam's jeans, but had some trouble doing it one handed. Sam helped out and Steve rewarded him with a kiss to his collarbone.  

"Well, I brought up the Thanksgiving thing because I was thinking we should do something different this year."  

Steve was only half listening to Sam now. "Uh-huh." 

"And I've never been to Vegas. And that's pretty fl— _fuck, Steve_ —flashy." Sam seemed determined to have this conversation despite Steve's best (and very talented) efforts to have him focus on other things. 

"We can get married while we're there," Steve joked. He leaned over to take Sam in his mouth, but Sam stopped him.  

"Married?" he repeated. 

Steve only _j_ _ust_ resisted rolling his eyes. Here he was trying to give Sam a beautiful blow job – a lovely orgasm on a Sunday morning – and Sam wanted to talk about Thanksgiving and deconstruct casual jokes.  

"What?" Steve asked. "Isn't that what people do in Vegas? I'm sure I've heard that." 

Sam frowned, then shook his head. "No, yeah. That's a thing. That happens." 

Steve abandoned his stoicism and did roll his eyes. "Sam, I have your dick in my hand and I'd like to progress to other things. What's the matter? Do you need to yell about the pilgrims and Cowboys some more?" 

Sam laughed. "No, um. No. We should, uh, we should get married. Steve. Me and you. In Vegas. On Thanksgiving." 

Steve pulled his hand away and fully sat up. "Married?" 

"Is that too weird? Is it too soon? Am I being crazy?" 

Steve laughed. "I mean, you are being crazy." Sam's shoulders fell and Steve added, "but that's kinda what we do, right?" 

Sam grinned. "Yeah, it is." 

"Babe, on the way from the gym, I was just thinking about giving you a couple orgasms. This escalated fast." Steve looked at Sam seriously, blue eyes to brown. He didn't want to get caught up in the moment. He needed to think with his head and not his heart – or his dick. But his head was kinda feeling it. He loved Sam. He didn't want to be with anyone else for the rest of his life. And he was pretty sure his health insurance package with SHIELD was better than whatever the VA was offering Sam. They'd lived together for about fifteen months, so they knew they could. There was literally no reason not to.  

Sam brushed a kiss over Steve's lips – soft, almost nervous. "We always say I do everything slow. I wanna go fast this time." 

Steve returned Sam's kiss, harder, firmer, surer. He slid his hand back in Sam's pants to continue what he'd started. "Okay," he said, between kisses. "We're gonna fix all the ills of Thanksgiving with a big ole gay wedding." 

Sam grunted and pushed his hips up, but couldn't seem to help saying, "You are so white sometimes." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing NaNoWriMo for the first time, but this little idea just came to me (at 1:30 in the morning when I should be sleeping) and I wanted to jot it down, before I went to sleep and forgot the damn thing. (I also know I promised a sequel to Something Extraordinary that has to wait until after NaNoWriMo, but I know what's going to happen and it's cute.) Wrote this in, like thirty minutes, so all proofreading errors are mine and I'm smarter than they would suggest. So...if you've read this whole note, you're a star and I love you.


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